


Cheap Shots

by amcw177



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-10
Updated: 2009-06-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7703452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amcw177/pseuds/amcw177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who brings tonfa to a knife fight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheap Shots

**Author's Note:**

> **Beware:** This is a repost from Dreamwidth. Just trying to move all my fic here.
> 
> Originally written for [Porn Battle VIII](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/10575.html?thread=849487) on DW.
> 
> Unbeta'd and super old.

It's a bloody mess and Hibari thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. The street around them is in bits and pieces, parked cars damaged beyond repair, shattered windows, broken fences - there's even the occasional wall that wasn't stong enough to withstand their fight.

And there's blood. On his clothes, on the sidewalk, littered with debris; he can taste it on his tongue and his mind tricks him into believing that he can even taste it in the very air.

It's been a while since he's felt this alive.

The blonde nuisance is smirking at him, twirling a couple of razor-sharp knives in each hand as if playing with nothing but a harmless keychain. The annoyingly girly tiara has somehow managed to stay in his hair.

None of them make a move, each grinning at the other without knowing why. The reason for their fight is long lost in the shattered vicinity - the only reason they have now is that the respective other is still not _down on his knees_.

Hibari doesn't so much as react to the sudden glint of speeding knives as to the anticipation of it. He reacts before he sees, pure gut feeling, instinct on levels only few can understand. He has a suspicion that his opponent can, though. Maybe that's why they are still both here.

The knives slice clean cuts into the arms of his shirt - he can feel the blood dampening the cloth but he doesn't care. He's picking up the pace, rushing towards the smug bastard whose eyes are constantly hidden behind a curtain of hair and should hence make it impossible to aim as well as he does.

The trained assassin flinches out of the way in the nick of time but Hibari is better than this. One tonfa misses the blond's temple but the other one bruises him badly on the side as Hibari bolts past. Hibari allows himself a satisfied smile when he sees his opponent falter for a moment.

They are both bloodied and bruised and by rights shouldn't even be able to stand anymore but they are and somehow the blonde annoyance manages to chuckle, even as he takes a few steps back.

"What are you laughing at, scum?", Hibari inquires, his voice low and predatory but then he notices. His breath is hitching, a burning sensation spreading all the way from his left ankle to his shoulder. His entire left side is covered in cuts as precise as a surgeon's. They hardly even hurt.

The blonde one is grinning broadly at him and perhaps there's even a small wink - it's impossible to know with all this hair. He dangles a long, almost invisible string in front of Hibari. The string is so thin one wouldn't even see it if it weren't dripping with blood - the same blood that is covering the multitude of knives attached to it. The same blood that is making Hibari's clothes stick to his body and is slowly pooling on the asphalt.

Hibari's eyes go wide for a second. A voice in his head is screaming _'Why didn't you see this coming?'_ but it quickly dims to a whisper when his legs threaten to give way. He won't let them. He won't let a random bastard like this one bring him down - not here, not now, not ever.

"You should be kneeling to a prince like me", the blond snickers, as if lost in his own private joke.

"And you should be dead", Hibari snarls before he launches himself at the intruder with all the remaining strength he can muster. And it's a lot, considering how much anger is fuelling his motions by now. He's not sure with what intention the other has trespassed into Hibari's territory today but he will make damned sure the bastard is not going to leave it _at all_.

Obviously, the blonde assassin hasn't given him enough credit and that infuriates Hibari even more. He's not to be taken lightly, by nobody.

The tedious chuckle gets stuck in the blond's throat as he gets knocked over and they both skitter and roll across the street in a tangled mess of blood, fury and killer instincts. Hibari comes out on top, straddling the so-called 'prince' and dealing one punch after the other, not caring if he's actually hitting what he's aiming for. He won't have any chance for a second try so he needs to make sure every hit counts _somehow_ , no matter where on the other's body it lands.

Beneath him the older boy desperately struggles to get a grip on his knives but Hibari won't allow it. His hand closes tightly around the sharp metal, holding it at bay. Blood is seeping out from his fist but Hibari hardly notices it. At one point or another this fight has turned into something else that neither of them can fully grasp - something that knows no bounds and will stop at nothing. And they're both revelling in it.

If only that annoying smirk on the other's face was gone. It's still so superior, so irritatingly unaffected, so unabashed and utterly mad.

That expression becomes Hibari's new target and since no blow of his fists or tonfas seems to be able to wipe it off the blonde boy's face Hibari resorts to a different technique. He leans in and doesn't quite kiss the boy - it's way too rough to be called a kiss.

The straining body under his goes rigid for a split-second. Perhaps the boy's eyes even widen at the unexpected change of strategy, who knows.

All Hibari knows is that all of a sudden there are teeth biting down hard on his lower lip, a tongue darting out to taste blood. And the ever-aggravating grin is firmly back in place. But it has an edge to it that Hibari is sure wasn't there before. He thinks he may like it.

One of the assassin's hands comes free but there are no knives within reach and so it tangles painfully in Hibari's hair, dragging him down into another kiss that is more teeth, blood and spit than anything else. Hibari allows it. It's just another way of fighting for dominance, anyway.

He bites down on the blond's tongue, satisfied when the action elicits a pained groan from the boy beneath him. The self-proclaimed prince looks up at him with a pleased grin, despite the smudges of red on his lips. He clicks his tongue, as if to show that Hibari's bite was nothing more than a little teasing.

Perhaps it was. It's hard to tell. The adrenaline evoked by the fight is replaced by a rush of an entirely different nature and it makes Hibari's vision blur and his decisions questionable. He hates it. But he can't make himself stop either. This is something new and the chances of finding someone else able to explore this further with are slim at best.

So he takes what he can get.

The blonde boy doesn't seem to object. He's as hungry for this - whatever it is - as Hibari is and shows it most willingly. The boy drops his grasp on the knives, leaves them in Hibari's hand, bloody and lodged in the skin of his palm. He reaches out and starts clawing at Hibari's clothes, ripping open a cut left by his own deadly weapons.

The prince's hands are hot and sticky and leave streaks of red on Hibari's skin. Hibari hisses angrily when one hand moves roughly over an open wound and he finally discards the knives still in his hand. He can't use it to support himself above the other boy, so he lowers himself, effectively pinning the blonde assassin to the ground. Not that the boy beneath him minds.

He starts nibbling, biting and licking at Hibari's jaw and neck. There's hardly any difference between a bite and an open-mouthed grin - both leave their marks on Hibari's shoulder.

Hibari takes it as just another bodily sign of a fight because no matter how aroused they both may be it's still just that - a fight. Only the weapons are different.

The blond rocks his hips, letting one of Hibari's legs slide between his own. They're both trapped in a way.

Hibari licks at the sweat and blood mingling in the nape of the boy's neck, hastily brushing away stubborn strands of blonde hair sticking to the mess. He moves in time with the natural-born killer underneath him, his good hand forcing the blond's distasteful t-shirt up.

Hibari's weapons are blunt most of the time so there are hardly any open cuts on the other's body but Hibari finds all the spots that have made close contact with his tonfas. The supposed prince gasps and arches his back in a way that makes him appear a lot less royal than he claims to be.

The hands on Hibari's back that are usually so skilled in dealing cruel deaths clench and unclench in unison with the rhythm of their hips, nails breaching skin just as Hibari's teeth do the same on the other boy's neck.

There is no time and they both know it. Hibari sneaks his uninjured hand between them, feeling the blond's erection through his pants. He starts to stroke - harsh, rugged movements because he's sure that the other takes as much pleasure in this as everything else. Hibari is not much different; the rough friction of cloth on his cock as he rubs himself against the assassin's thigh, his hand locked between their bodies - nothing is sweet or caring. They seem to be similar in the need to hurt first in order to feel.

The boy beneath him alternates between moans of pure instinctive lust and giggles that don't only border on madness but are proof of it. He arches into Hibari's touches like a wild animal, unsure if it wants to kill or be tamed. His neck is exposed as he throws his head back, the silly tiara finally disentangled from his hair and clattering to the ground.

Hibari smirks, simply because he can.

His ministrations grow erratic as he feels something hotter than the thrill of a fight pool in his stomach. His breath hitches like before but this time there are no knives, no cutting threads. His hurt hand involuntarily clenches into a fist, fresh blood welling up again as his other hand squeezes none too gently. He senses the shudder run through the other boy's body even before it happens.

There's a strangled cry, a chuckle that sounds more like someone choking on their own blood than having the time of their life. Hibari couldn't care less. The fury, the anticipation and the craving for something he can't quite name are knotting together, forcing wave after wave of deliciously hot sensations through his body. He can't remember ever feeling like this during a fight.

He comes without a sound, his good hand tangled in the blond's t-shirt, almost to the point of strangling him with it.

For a moment, they lie there - in the rubble they created, their blood mingling on the asphalt and on their bodies alike. Hibari should be disgusted but he doesn't see the point. What's done is done.

He doesn't wait for the assassin to stir underneath him. He scrambles to his feet, secures his tonfas and nudges the boy with the tip of his shoe.

"Get up", he growls, "and get the hell out of here."

The blond slowly sits up and maybe he even blinks a couple of times in irritation before the well-known grin begins to spread on his lips, "well, aren't you a cold princess."

"Call me that again and I'll make sure you can't even crawl out of here", Hibari scowls and turns to leave. He limps and he'll probably do so for a couple of weeks but he doesn't give a damn.

Behind him the blonde prince finally picks himself up and snickers, clapping his hands like a little child, "that was fun."

Hibari doesn't react. And he takes care to be well around the corner before he allows himself a smirk of his own and collapses.


End file.
